Mud Ghecko

​ (Art courtesy Daily Mirror ) Its been close upon two years now but the guilt of it has kept me silent so far.  Even now I will not tell you who I am, for your author, dear gentle reader, is guilty of having broken the law, violated the penal code and /or acted unconstitutionally to boot and what's worse now intends to crow about it too! The cause of this was a beady-eyed, near comatose bundle of black feathers I found on Greenpath, one Monday evening last July on my way back from work. This creature was later named Pokey and he * was seriously ill; birds of his feather had gathered around thoughtfully and were noisily discussing their intention of putting him out of his misery. ( Hint: this would involve being summarily pecked to death because they do not want to Leave you to the Cats. They obviously give a lot of thought to this sort of thing, crows.) Pocky did not have enough strength to so much as lift a wing but lay abject and lifeless waiting f...

And so , since all stories must have a beginning , my life story probably starts with this  wonderful ancestor, grandma Isabelle.         Now if that name makes you think of sweet, genteel colonial ladies with delicate fans, parasols and elbow length white gloves, partaking of "Tiffin" or groping tremulously for their smelling salts, let me bust the bubble because Grandma Isabelle was – different. [1]         I remember her looking sternly at me over her thick spectacles and saying " are you sure you are wearing decent knickers, child? Otherwise  skirt going up and people will laugh- big shame,  no "         I remember looking back at her and nodding humbly " yes, nana " ; I dare say your own grandma probably told you stuff like this too, when you were a kid, but the difference here was probably that I was 30 at the time, and had come to visit her, riding a small Indian Yamaha, without a valid license . …( ouch!)         She boasted of langua...

Dear Santa,   Firstly, I would like to thank you for visiting us once a year and giving us presents. That's really sweet of you.   In all my early letters, I have asked for things like "elimination of pollution" and "increase of moral values in mankind" and "better treatment towards animals and women" but I think none of it has happened.   Men, women, children, animals, plants and earth herself is dying of starvation, wars, abuse and all sorts of nasty things. So I take it that you probably have a lot in your plate and that's why it's still going on. I hear God is pretty busy too. I don't read the news or watch television much but from what I hear Daddy say, the world has become pretty much a poop hole. But not in so many words. Id have to put a penny in the word jar if I said the word he used. That and I probably wont get this years present from you too.   I wrote a letter to God asking why he hasn't looked into all these stuff that...

Its six months since Operation Munchkins, when we ran after a little stray heifer for 4 hours in a tropical thunderstorm, trapped her, jumped her and got vets to cure the hideous nose wound made by a rope that was eating into her flesh. We didnt know where she was from - there were two theories that she was an escaped slaughter house cow, and the second theory that she had been releasaed in fullfilment of a vow as is done by some Buddhists and Hindus. I personally go with the slaughter house story because the "Vow Cows"in Sri Lanka usually have a little branding saying PINg so that people know they are sacred or whatever. Munchi dosnt have the branding.   ​ Thats a psychedelic camera phone image of a photograph of Munch after the rope was cut away.​ Belongs to Zeenath Amanath my partner in crime   A neighbor of mine named Zeenath and I became the best of friends as we sat in the evenings after work, looking after her, swatting mosquitoes, bringing her kilos of food, dancing a...

Its six months since Operation Munchkins, when we ran after a little stray heifer for 4 hours in a tropical thunderstorm, trapped her, jumped her and got vets to cure the hideous nose wound made by a rope that was eating into her flesh. We didnt know where she was from - there were two theories that she was an escaped slaughter house cow, and the second theory that she had been releasaed in fullfilment of a vow as is done by some Buddhists and Hindus. I personally go with the slaughter house story because the "Vow Cows"in Sri Lanka usually have a little branding saying PINg so that people know they are sacred or whatever. Munchi dosnt have the branding.   ​ Thats a psychedelic camera phone image of a photograph of Munch after the rope was cut away.​ Belongs to Zeenath Amanath my partner in crime   A neighbor of mine named Zeenath and I became the best of friends as we sat in the evenings after work, looking after her, swatting mosquitoes, bringing her kilos of food, dancing a...

​​and so now that I live in Ratmalana I hardly visit the mothership, except on occasions, and yesterday was one. Mahagedara is half way across the country that could be a problem too, just the sheer aggravation of getting there in public transport. But duty occasionally calls. So there I was yesterday evening, at dusk on Dickmans Road (now called Lester James Pieries mawatha to confuse both tourists and three wheelers alike) pondering slow wittedly and with genuine dread, as to whether i should take a bus, or a train or a combination of train, bus, and threewheel to get there, when an adorably wizened old lady practically falls against me, and hangs on to me for life, saying she is feeling faint and asking how to get to Maradana. Sigh. OF course. Just what I need right now. I ask her why she wants to get to maradana- where is her home and she says Colombo in a firm and defiant voice. (Reminds me a lot of my mother, this one)  Completely lost and pathetic and angry at the world too. She...

​ ●     Legendary "Milk for Colombo" not so good for health after all, says CRaP report ●     Gamata Kakiri movement grows following launch   Al Juhara/Colombo: Hard-hitting Colombo based think-tank the Centre for Regional Alternative Proposals (CR-P) recently issued a timely and voluminous piece of ground-breaking research on the subject of Human Satisfaction in Rural Sri Lanka in the backdrop of "kakiri" consumption statistics, based on a three year long research exercise which involved thousands of interviews, field trips and Focus Group Discussions (ie meeting with people) and a budget of only $ 2 million. Startling findings from the epoch-making 240 pg survey, which was printed sparing no expense since it was funded by gullible generous Nordic Donors, conclude that rural humans in Sri Lanka are actually happier than they look, in spite of a bucolic diet of previously maligned vegetables like manioc, talana batu and the supposedly inferior "Kakiri" of...

  (old article written 7 years ago and guess what Im still running around! Photo from http://zenchick.com ) Last Sunday, I slowed down. I mean, seriously:  I was fed up with running around, beating deadlines, meeting schedules, pleasing other people and doing my duties like a perfect person – I went on a small discrete personal strike and took a cruise down the highway with my speedometer set at 20 kmph. Now finally I can in fact recommend everyone to try this once at least ... It changes perception, it puts things in proportion, and it totally surprises. Its almost as funny as being able to put the rest of the world in fast forward and sitting back watching their curious antics with total detachment. Well, this is how it felt. The rest of the country seems to be obsessed with speed. Sonic wooshes as cars, lorries and bikes overtook on a race somewhere where good things were happening, where regular mortals did not want to be left out. (And since this was  Sunday  morning it could not ...